Fancy Meeting You Here
by Phoenix Bradley
Summary: What happened to the four brats once they grew up? Four short stories of Willy Wonka's second meeting with each of them.
1. You Are What You Eat

Fancy Meeting You Here...  
by, Smeagol's girl

(A/N:I fixed it so it'll be easier on the eyes. Sorry about that!Four short stories of Willy Wonka's accidentaly encounters with the rotten children after they've become adults. Rated K+. I own nothing.)

Part 1  
You Are What You Eat

The skies of London were growing more and more cloudy by the moment, which was typical lately. Rain seemed to becom the weather of choice around there, and everyone had simply learned to deal with it unwillingly. But there was nothing to stop them from scattering once it started to fall, so when the first crack of thunder resounded like a warning bell, people began to hurry and find shelter, parents pulling their children inside for their safety.

So naturally, this was the opportune time for Willy Wonka to venture out into the streets where no one wanted to be. No one would hastle him if they recognized him, and there would be a good distance between him and the normal people. He was out the once because he had been experiencing massive candy man's block, and needed a good walk to clear his head. This always happened once every harvest moon, but he usually waited until night before venturing out. Demands on new candy had been so insane lately, that he simply did not have the time to wait until night.

His head was stuck somewhere between heffelumps and woozles when the rain began to fall on him. He glanced up at the sky with a smile, and reached over for his umbr-

His hands patted around frantically, but there was no sign of his lovely umbrella. Half slapping himself he shook his head, he knew he had forgotten something, and the rain wasn't going to work wonders on his beautiful hat. Not knowing where else to go, he ran up to a nearby subway and boarded it, hoping that maybe a calm ride would have the same effect that a walk would have. It was relatively empty inside, and he chose one of the seats towards the back, staring out the window silently as he tried to think. Candy had always been a no brainer to him, because he always made what he felt like. Perhaps some sort of wet candy with the shivers then? No, no one would want that unless they were unnaturally hot and dry.

"Out of my way, tubby!" shouted a grouchy passenger as he squeezed down the hall. Willy glanced up breifly to see what the fuss was, and laid eyes on, what had to be, the single largest man he had seen in his life. He was a giant compared to the snotty man trying to squeeze past him, but a gentle giant for not shouting back for the name calling. He tried to suck in his massive stomach to give the man room, and managed to after a few minutes of squeezing and groaning. Once the man was through, he shouted back at the giant, "Do the world a favor and go on a diet!" The giant said nothing but found his way to one of the special sized seats, sitting in it glumly, glancing down at the floor.

Without meaning to, Willy felt sympathy for the man. After all, it probably wasn't he fault he was so big. Could he control the fact that most fattening foods tasted so good? And who had been that grouch anyway? He deserved to be squished by the man he would dare say. Oooh! It made him so irritated! He had to munch it out with a Wonka bar. Reaching in his pocket, he pulled one out (how he always managed to have one with him, he didn't have a clue) and started to unwrap it. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the giant shift uncomfortably, starting to eye the bar with greed. For a brief moment, Willy was certain he would pounce on him for it, and looked up at him nervously.

"Would you like some?" he asked, deciding to surrender for his life, holding up the chocolatey sacrifice to the towering man who would make a good Buddah statue if he shaved his head. The man looked as if he would take if at first, but then shook his large round head, holding his hand up.

"Naw, thanks," he said, a German accent squeezing through. "I really shouldn't. Need to vatch my veight."

"Oh, poppycock!" said Willy. "You look... great! One bar won't hurt anything would it?" The man chuckled and shrugged.

"You're good, all right." He reached over and took the bar gently, not snatching it so that Willy's fingers might go with it. Willy smiled, pleased, and pulled out a second bar for himself.

"You like Wonka bars?" he asked, ready to take a bite out of it.

"I love zem!" said the man eagerly, nearly devouring the bar in one bite. Willy watched him, slightly unsure and grinned.

"I can see that," he said with a smile, eager to please. "So do I. Didn't think we'd have so much in common." At this, the man eyed him with suspicion, and Willy struggled to eat any of the bar now with those eyes boring into him. He cleared his throat nervously and looked at him, preparing himself to get up and run if he needed to.

"Meester Vonka?" asked the man, his eyes widening. Great! Willy though. Someone recognized him! Now what? "It eez you!" cried the man, a smile that stretched longer than his face appearing. "Augustus! Augustus Gloop, remember?" he asked. Willy thought for a minute, and then in the back of his mind remember the boy barely sqeezing through a pipe filled with chocolate...

"Augustus! Of course I remember! My, you haven't changed a bit, have you?" He reluctantly reached out and shook his hand, not really having very man fond memories of the young man. "What brings you out here?"

"Bussiness meeting of course. I am zee president of Plus Siz Inc."  
Shoulda known, Willy thought to himself. "Really? That's wonderful, isn't it? You probably make a lot of money with that don't you?"

"Almost more zan you maybe. People who love your chocolate as much as I do, struggle to find clothes in zeir on sizes. Do you know how many stores sell pant in a size 256?"

"Er... not many?"

"None except for my company! It eez ridiculous! Our bussiness eez very popular with zee Americans though."

"Well that's just splendid! I'm glad things are doing well for you!"

"Oh! This eez my stop. Eet's been a pleasure seeing you again Meester Vonka. Perhaps we meet again some other time?"

"Oh, I do hope so!" he lied.

"So long zen!" With that, the massive ball of flesh that was Augustus Gloop stood up and sqeezed his way out of the bus.

"A weight loss bar," Willy muttered. "Yes, I believe that's what I'll make."


	2. Aw Nuts!

Part 2:  
Aw Nuts!

After jotting down his candy idea on a piece of paper and stashing it in his pocket, he got off the bus, having noticed the rain had stopped. Walking down the streets full of people made him agrivated. They were always brushing against him, bumping into him, and... he hated it... touching him! Gah! Physical contact was not one of the services he offered, and loathed it when people expected it from him. What ever happened to admiring someone from a distance?

As he wandered around, not really having a clear idea of where he wanted to go, something caught his eye. Two big black eyes staring at him through a window, a furry face, and floppy ears. He couldn't help but smile. Only a crazy person wouldn't smile at a puppy, and he was not crazy... in his mind anyway. Chuckling a little, he gave in to temptation and stepped into the pet shop to go see this little puppy up close. It yipped at him, its little pink tongue hanging out, a sort of smile on its face.

He reached out hesitantly and scratched it behind the ears, his smile growing as the puppy looked up at him in content. It was so darn cute! Part of him wanted to take it home with him, but he knew a chocolate factory was no place for a dog. Besides, didn't chocolate kill dogs? It was a disgusting thought, being the world's largest chocolaholic, but one that made him wonder, none the less.

"Can I help you, sir?" asked a voice. He turned around and a young woman with brown curly hair, eyes that seemed to be narrow with suspicion naturally, and a tad too much perfume, reminding him of his aunt who would nearly suffocate him with it whenever she would hug him... well, that and the fact that she was over two hundred pounds (it still gave him nightmares...)

"Uh, no," he said quickly, becoming frightened by the memories this woman's horrifying perfume was triggering. "I was just looking. Cute little guy... isn't he?" He made no eye contact with the woman who nodded.

"Normally we don't carry mixed breeds, but since children can't seem to afford the real deal now-a-days, I have to carry the cheap ones." She said this last part as if something smelled terrible nearby. She was everything but friendly. She would make a good IRS agent, he thought to himself.

"Actually, I don't think you have what I'm looking for anyway," he lied, trying to think of a way to make a clean getaway.

"Sir, we carry everything. What are you looking for?"

"Er... squirrels!" That was a flat out lie. In fact, the other day he found out by mistake that not all the squirrels were male. The result, 500 new squirrels, ready to work. Helpful, perhaps, but a little irritating with the constant squeaking.

"Squirrels?" she asked, eyes actually widening a little.

"Yeah... squirrels. Unless... you have them?"

"No!" she said a little quickly. "We carry everything BUT squirrels."

"Oh, I see. Well, that's a pity than isn't it? I guess I'll be going then..."

"Even if we did carry them, I highly doubt you'd find them trained." At this he froze and looked at her.

"What did you say?"

"I said I doubt you'd find them trained, Mr. Wonka."

He stood perfectly still, trying to think of what to do or say. Should he run? Hide? Sic an attack oompa-loompa on her? "You... know me?" he asked at length.

"Five years of therapy... Mr. Wonka," she said in a dark voice. "You caused me five years of therapy, and they still don't believe that I was attacked by trained squirrels! I was the laughing stalk of my family! And do you know what happened next!" She was in his face now, and he tightened his grip on his cane, hoping he wouldn't have to use it.

"You got better?" he offered hopefully in a very high voice.

"No! I end up having to move down here changing my name from Veruca Salt to Seruca Valt, and now I live in... an apartment! An apartment! I hope you're happy!"

Perhaps you should go back to therapy, he almost said, taking advantage of the awkward silence to step away a few inches. "My dear woman, I apologize for any... problems you went through... but it would help us both a little if you'd blink." Her eyes had been boring into him, and if she were superman, lasers would have shot out and fried him into oblivion.

"If I hadn't gotten my identity changed, I'd sue you for every penny you have!"

"Well, that's just a shame then. Good luck with that." He turned and literally fled from the place, being followed by a shout of, "I'M NOT THROUGH WITH YOU YET!"

For a moment, he was certain he wouldn't get away alive, but he did and took a moment to catch his breath. "Never... leave... the factory again!" he panted, waiting till he was able to shake it off.


	3. It's Not Easy Being Blue

(A/N: To my readers, thanks for reading this far. I was afraid that people would think it was too cheesey and stupid, but I guess not. If anyone here is currently reading my one fic 'Bitter Sweet Symphony', I apologize but it'll take a few weeks before the next update. I'm on vacation at my grandparents right now and I completely forgot to bring the disc with that file on it. Sorry! And the sequel to Some Angel may be a few days late. Please don't hurt me! I'm really really sorry!  
CYA!)

Part 3 It's Not Easy Being Blue

Well, it goes without saying that those who are born brats are usually doomed to die as brats, or so he was beginning to understand. Veruca Salt, how could anyone forget that monster? The last long line of, "I want it NOOOOOOOOW!" was still ringing in his ears. Part of him still wished the incinerator wasn't broken that day...

All he wanted now was to go back to the factory and munch it out with a large chocolate bar. So much for going through a pleasant day without being recognized by anyone. What's next? He feared to think of it, but went on silently, approaching every street with caution. "Get out of here, freak!" shouted an angry voice, and he sighed. Here we go again. He turned to see who he had offended this time, but instead found a man throwing a young woman away from him like she was a rag doll. Her body was covered from head to toe in layers, not even allowing her face to be visible.

"I didn't do anything!" she shouted back. "Just let me get something to eat and I'll go!"

"Nice try, but we don't serve animals here. Go back to the freak show!" With that, the man turned back to the door of his coffee shop and slammed it, leaving her there, fuming and staring at it, almost seeming ready to charge through it.

"I don't need to put up with you JERKS anway!" she half screamed, and turned away, storming down the sidewalk, holding her hood up so no one would look.

Oh no, Willy thought. He had that feeling, the one that always got the better of him. Pity! Argh! Why now? Besides, it wasn't safe to talk to strangers, right? He couldn't let himself give in, not this time, so he turned around, walking in the opposite dirrection to the bus stop. Time to go home! But as the large bus pulled in and he went to the back to find a seat, the pity turned to guilt, which pained him even worse.

Who was that girl anyway? And what had she done to deserve that? No! He couldn't think about it. He felt bad enough already. She was probabl standing on the street corner alone, and in the rain which had just started up again. Oh raspberries! He couldn't stop thinking about it. Sighing loudly, he stood up and got ready to get off at the next stop. But as he stood, the bus stopped and the doors opened letting in three new passengers.

Squinting a little, he saw the woman board, and take the seat across from him, the only one that had been empty. Drawing her knees up and resting them on the back of the seat in front of her, she rested her head on the window, hood drawn up to hide her face. Then, and he loathed hearing this, but she made a sound that he recognized too well. A sniffle followed by the unmistakeable sounds of crying. She seemed to be trying to muffle it out so no one would notice, but he could see it. And there it was again, the feeling of pity. Why did this have to happen now? He was almost home to the factory. In fact, the next stop was the one he was supposed to get off at.

The woman reached her hand up and brushed tears away, but still managing to keep her face covered. Oh, what did he have to loose? So far he had been soaked with rain, cornered by a fat man, nearly attacked by a crazy rich girl, what could possibly make it any worse? Turning he looked over at the woman, and cleared his throat nervously.

"Uh... are... are you alright... person?" She shifted a little, but didn't look at him.

"Leave me alone," she said in a trembly voice. Well, you heard her, he thought to himself, but knew his concience wouldn't let him off the hook so easily.

"Um... would you like a Wonka bar?" he asked, finding one in his pocket. This time she sat up and slightly tilted her head in his dirrection.

"I see, so you see a poor woman and immediatly think you have to take pity on her? Is that how it is?" she demanded. "I don't need your pity!"

I was just trying to be nice, he almost said. He turned, planning to avoid eye contact until he was back at the factory. "I'm sorry," he heard from next to him, and turned to see the woman with her face in her hands. "People are always saying mean things to me. I was expecting the same from you."

"Well that's not nice," he said softly. "Why do they do that?"

"Because I'm ugly. They treat me like this because I look different. I hate it! My mom practically drove me out of my house on a steak and I've been on my own for so long because no one understands and... and..." She stopped and sighed. "Not that you care anyway."

In honesty he really didn't, but the pity feeling was driving him crazy! "Oh, c'mon," he said, forcing a cheerful tone. "I'm sure you can't look that ugly!" She didn't respond, and now the pity was replaced with curiousity. What did she really look like? Reaching out cautiously, he pinched on to her hood and gently pulled it back revealing dark blue hair, and a blue face. She was very pretty, he thought, it was just the blue that ruined it. She looked up at him with blue eyes full of tears.

"Well?"

"It's not... that bad," he said softly, unable to stop staring. "Sort of makes you look like a blue berry."

"I was a blue berry," she muttered, wiping her eyes.

"Really?" he asked, now beginning to wonder if she wasn't all there mentally. Approach with caution.

"Remember that tour of Wonka's chocolate factory? I was there, and we went into a room where he was making a special kind of gum. I ate it and... well what happened next is obvious." His eyes widened and his jaw dropped.

"Wait..." he muttered. "Valley? No... Villy... Violet! You're Violet Boure-...somethingerother."

"You know me?" she asked, looking puzzled. "Who are you?" He bit his lip, not wanting to say for fear of someone else hearing. And what would she do when she found out? He didn't want to face a near death encounter again. He had to changed the topic.

"You're kinda short, aren't ya?" he said, unable to think of anything else. Her eyes nearly popped out of their sockets.

"Mr. Wonka?" she gasped. "What are you doing here?"

"I can go where I want!" he said a little defensively. "It's a free country isn't it?" He pretended to be offened so that maybe she'd think he wouldn't talk to her. The last thing he wanted to do was have another converstation.

"Wow, I thought you'd be... very very old by now."

I am, he almost answered, but turned and looked at her. "Thanks... I guess."

"At least one of us is doing good."

"Oh come on, being blue can't be all that bad."

"Tell that to my mom. She wouldn't let me compete in anything for fear of getting publicly humiliated. All she cares about is herself. If she saw how I'm doing now, she wouldn't give a rip. Champion... yeah right. More like barely survivor."

"Well, maybe your mom was protecting you because she loves you..." He froze. Did he really just say that? HE said THAT! Oh dear, he felt like he was losing it now.

"I thought you hated parents," she muttered.

"I uh... did." Well, he had already said so much, might as well go on. "Listen, maybe you just misunderstood each other? You see how people treat you now, maybe she was trying to prevent that from happening in competition." Violet had no answer to this. "Maybe you should... talk to her?"

"It's not like I can just waltz up to the door and talk to her like it was old times. It's not that simple."

He sighed, knowing what was coming next. "Want me to go with you?" he asked before he could stop his own mouth. She looked at him and half smiled.

"Sure," she said, shrugging. He smiled and rode with her to her mother's house. This whole thing was just flat out weird, but part of him wanted to do it. And this would leave stories to tell to Charlie. How would he react when he found out he, Willy, had seen these three kids?

Time went quick, and soon they were there. Violet was very silent as they aproached the door, and he had to knock on it for her. When Mrs. Boure-... somethingerother answered, Willy noticed the Violet was practically hiding behind him.

"Can I... help you?" she asked, staring at him curiously.

"Oh, not me," he said, and stepped to the side. Violet stood there fidgeting and looked completely frightened. He placed his hand on her back and lightly pushed her foreward. Her mother stared her down for a minute and her eyes widened.

"Violet?" she asked softly.

"Hi... mom." There was an awkward silence... and then...

"Oh, honey!" Her mother ran to her and threw her arms around her, holding her close. Violet began to cry and laugh at the same time. Willy smiled, knowing there was no room for him to be there now, and left silently, unable to wipe the smile off his face. It was only then that he learned the bus was done running for the day.

"Oh, bugger!" he muttered.  
----


	4. Candy Man Hunter!

(A/N: Hehehe! I just got the CATCF soundtrack! Mwa! I heart it!)

Where was he? Not Venturing outside the factory for so long had given him the disadvantage of not knowing where anything was. He did know that he was at least a half hour away from the factory... but that was about it. And the dull thunder was beginning to announce that the rain was ready to fall again. This made things a little more frustrating, and he decided to find a phone and call for a ride home. The only store open was a gaming store across the street. He shrugged, not knowing where else to go, and went over to it, opening the door and stepping inside.

"Oh, sorry sir, but we're closing now," said a voice. He turned and saw a young man standing there behind the cash register.

"I'm sorry. Please, do you have a phone I can use? It's kind of an emergency."

"Sure," he said, and pushed the phone across the counter so it was closer to him. Willy noticed his hand was oddly thin, like paper almost, but he shrugged, deciding not to ask, and dialed the number. "You know, it's kinda dumb to be walking around in this kind of weather without an umbrella."

"Excuse me, but I'm stuck on this level," said a voice. There was a little boy across the room, playing a demo game, and struggling with the level he was on.

"Please! A retard could figure that out!" The man stood up (Willy hadn't known he was sitting before) and came to an alarming height of what had to be at least nine or ten feet! Willy stood there gaping, not expecting this at all, but then, he had seen a lot of strange things today. "Gimme that!" snapped the man, snatching the controller. "You kill this man first, otherwise he'll nail you, then you run to the gate, crack the code by dividing the gate number by its square root, and then you turn to kill to others while the gate is opening. It's amazing you even got to this level!" He did all this in thirty seconds, and handed the controller back to the boy. "Go home, get a brain, and then come back so you won't waste my time!"

Touchy, Willy thought, and finished dialing the number. There was ringing... ringing... ringing... a quack... "Oops," he muttered. "Another duck got caught on the phone line again... hehe." Ringing...

"Hello?"

"Charlie, is that you? Splendid! Listen, I need a ride home... Where am I? Uh... one moment." He placed his hand over the reciever and turned to the tall skinny man. "What's the address to this place?"

"21 Jumpstreet," came his answer in a very 'well duh!' tone.

"21 Jumpstreet. And please make haste." He hung up and knew it was only a matter of time before Charlie would show up. Let's see, he thought. So far I've run into three of them, one of them is on the way, that just leaves... "NO!" he said a little too loud, causing the tall skinny man to turn.

"What are you looking at?"

"You're... one of them!" he cried, pointing a finger at him and backing away.

"What?"

"The ticket winners who came and caused choas in my factory! You're Mike Teavee!" At this the man narrowed his eyes and his expression (if it was possible) became more unfriendly, almost worse than Veruca's.

"You're Willy Wonka! You're the idiot who did this to me!"

"Oh... yeah..." he muttered. I'm gonna die! his head was screaming. In a few minutes he would turn green, grow massive and scary muscels, growl, his clothes -except for the pants- would fall to shreds, and then he'd tear into him like a monkey in a cupcake! Oh, just thinking about it made him feel winded.

"Perhaps my new game might interest you," said Mike in a menacing voice. "I designed it myself! It's called Candy Man Hunter." He gestured to the screen where the little boy was playing, and Wonka watched in horror as random candy men appeared, running around while a man holding a gun shot them down.

"Prodnose!" he cried, watching the little cartoon character get destroyed rather grotesquely. "Grandma Sees!" A little old lady bit the dust. "Slugworth? Wait... I don't like him. GUN 'EM DOWN!" Then the screen turned to a rather ugly character with warts on his face, large buckteeth and a top hat. "Hey!" cried Willy. "I don't look like that!"

"The game's been selling millions world wide."

Willy gulped and turned. "Well... good fer you, then. I guess I'll get going..."

"Oh no you don't!" shouted Mike. He had been able to escape death from Veruca, but unfortunately he was no match for the long stretchy arms of Mike Teavee. In one swift motion he was snatched up from the floor by his collar and dragged outside. Screaming was pointless now, and he could only wait for death now. "You know what I did for the rest of the school year, Mr. Wonka?"

"Learned boring stuff?" he offered in a squeaky voice.

"I took up basketball! And guess what, I was the best slam dunker on the team!" He crossed the street, still carrying Willy, and marched over to the basketball court. When Willy saw this he yelped, knowing what was coming.

"I'm not one of your balls!" he cried. "I don't bounce very well..."

"No, but I'm not gonna bounce you." Before Willy knew what was happening, Mike flung him up in the air, holding him over his head. "He shoots!" shouted Mike, and threw Willy down into the hoop. "He scores!" Now, as many of you readers may have guessed, Willy was not the right size, and only ended up going halfway through the net, dangling upside down with a monster of a headache. Mike left him there like that and he sighed. Should have left him a midget.

(Do not fear, do not fret, it's not the end just yet)  
-


	5. Epilogue

(And now, I assume most of you can guess how Charlie turned out, but incase you'd still like to see, then this is for you.)

It was almost fifteen minutes before Charlie finally arrived. When Willy spotted him, he was over joyed and called for him so he would see him across the street. "Over here m'boy!" he shouted. Charlied turned around and stared at him, eyes wide with shock. "Little help?" asked Willy, wriggling around pointlessly. Charlie came running and stared at him in shock.

"What are you doing up there?" he asked.

"Human basketball, what's it look like? Help me!" He managed to fit an arm through and extended his hand to Charlie, who took it. "Just pull hard, my dear boy!" Using all his strength, Charlie pulled as hard as he could, grunting slightly until at last... POP! Willy popped right out of it and came crashing none too gracefully to the ground. He seemed to do that a lot lately...

Groaning and rubbing his sore head, he slowly got to his feet. "Thanks," he muttered, and walked with Charlie back to the elevator.

"How did you get up there?" he asked.

"Oh, wait till we get to the factory, Charlie. It's such a long story." And so he did, and after a warm mug of hot cocoa and a serious ice pack, Willy retold the story to Charlie while sitting with him in the candy meadow. Charlie listened with wide eyes (occasionally needing to hide a laugh) and smiled when it was over.

"I don't believe it," he muttered. "All these years and they still haven't learned. Well, most of them anyway." Violet was really the only exception, but it was still a little disappointing to hear. "Are you going to press charges against Mike Teavee?"

"And do what? Call the police and report I was used as a human basketball by a ten foot tall stretchy smartmouth that's thinner than a piece of paper? No way."

"I guess that would be a hard one to explain," muttered Charlie. He sat back and took another long swig of cocoa while watching the fudgey river.

"You know Charlie, when I first saw all five children put together, I thought you all looked like brats. And one by one you proved you were, except for you. I guess we both got off rather lucky, I mean, look where they are now." Charlie had to laugh this time.

"Yeah. I'd rather live in a chocolate factory with four senile grandparents, my parents, and a half crazed candy man than be the owner of a plus plus size company." Willy laughed and held up his mug.

"Here here," he said, and they clacked them together, drinking down every last drop. As they both thought about it, even late that night, they both realized how lucky they both had been to have found each other.

THE END!


End file.
